


Arrival Gates and Departure Times

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-24
Updated: 2011-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:39:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summers end, but they come around again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrival Gates and Departure Times

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[**inlovewithnight**](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/) who pointed out that Pete's "hot saki with a dear friend in la" [tweet](http://twitter.com/#!/petewentz/status/50216291826544640) coincides with Mikey's return to LA. Sweet Little Dudes, you guys.

  
Mikey’s not even off the plane when he gets the text. His phone vibrates two seconds after he turns it back on and he smiles when he looks down at the name on the screen.

‘sld. Gate d47.’

He grins and squeezes Alicia’s hand. “Can you get home okay?”

One of her eyebrows goes up, but he shows her the screen and she smiles. “Yeah. Call me and I’ll come get you.”

He nods and kisses her temple, squeezing her hand. He, Pete and Alicia have been the Three Musketeers from time to time, but seeing Mikey and his wife, happily married and close probably isn’t the image Pete needs in his head right now. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry.” She grins at him. “You can make it up to me.”

“Don’t I always?” He gives her a grin of his own, not letting go of her hand until they get to the point where they have to separate. He doesn’t say anything to Gerard, just slips off as they all head to the baggage claim, weaving through people on his way to another gate.

Gate D47 is their code for a quiet little dark restaurant in the outer concourse that they found one time when they were supposed to be somewhere else. Mikey’d been hungry for sushi and Pete had been determined to find it, so they spent time in the airport ducking into restaurants and pubs and ignoring their cell phones until they found a little hole in the wall place with bad lighting, decent sushi and hot sake. They’d gotten dirty looks when they’d finally made it back to where the rest of their bands were, a little tipsy and a lot ridiculous, giggling like madmen over private jokes and bad puns.

Their table is near the door that lets the employees back into the kitchen, and it’s a lot more crowded now that it ever was before, but that doesn’t stop Mikey from snaking through the crowd and sitting down across from Pete. He’s got his hoodie up and dark glasses on, his left hand playing with the ring on his right. When Mikey sits down though, his smile is bright enough to blind despite the lines of tiredness that echo around it, the barely visible creases fanning out from his eyes. “Mikeyway.”

“That’s the rumor.” Mikey smiles back and reaches out, catching Pete’s left hand and squeezing it, forcing him to let go of the ring. “So, I’m thinking now would be the perfect time for more dick pictures.”

“Gabe beat me to it, the jerk.” Pete flips his phone so Mikey can see the screen, trying to keep from smiling when Mikey looks back up.

“That’s not Gabe.”

He loses his fight and actually laughs out loud. Mikey chalks one up in his score column. Pete works it back down to giggles eventually. “I totally want to find him a pair of disco balls boxers.”

“Oh, those are his boxers.” Mikey says, completely straight-faced. “But that’s not his dick.”

Pete giggles again and Mikey squeezes his hand, getting up and going to order food and sake. He doesn’t drink much anymore, but certain things are worth the weird aftereffects of booze mixed with his meds, and Pete’s definitely one of them. He comes back with a huge plate full of sushi and two bottles of sake and, by the time he sits down, Pete’s got his sunglasses off. He looks even more exhausted without them, shadows under his dark eyes.

“So, you need to have a talk with Travie, you know. Since you guys announced your tour dates all I’ve gotten is tweets from pissed off people in Seattle.”

“Trust me, I know. Of course, thanks to you guys going to Vancouver in between, our Portland date is sold out.”

“Well, we do what we can to help the little bands.” Mikey snorts and picks up an Ikura. “We’re all about the little people.”

“Saving the world.” Pete smiles a little, something too sad in it for Mikey’s tastes. “Saving me.”

“I’m not here to save you. That’s Gerard’s gig. I’m just here because you’re my best friend.” Mikey smiles and bites into the sushi. “Fuck, I miss Japan.”

“Let me guess, stocked up on green tea Kitkats?”

“Someone has to. I went through the supply from your last trip there already.” He nudges the plate toward Pete and lifts his eyebrow until Pete picks up a piece and eats it. It’s silent for a few moments, trading off eating. There are words unspoken in the air, questions to be asked and answered, even when the answers are ones Mikey already knows. Pete wears his heart on the outside, exposed and open. “I got you a present.”

“Throwing stars?”

“No. Remember the incident with the Triscuits?”

“Oh. Right.” Pete frowns and takes a sip of his sake, words obviously clogged in his throat. He clears it and takes another sip then takes one of the tiny roe and puts it on the pink slab of fish, giving it an eye and letting it swim around on the plate. “Ninjas?” Mikey digs into his carryon and pulls out a box. It’s green and orange in hideous combinations, Japanese writing all over it. Pete opens it and laughs, the start of it caught on a sob. “Oh.”

It’s a little plastic ninja playing a guitar. “I had Gee paint it to a customized Pete Wentz, listening to him bitch the entire time about how this was not what he meant when he asked me if I wanted to paint miniatures.”

“The Orcs are probably very jealous.”

“And Ray said it didn’t actually count as a miniature if you and the ninja are the same size, and then Frank laughed, and we all insulted him in your honor.” He watches Pete closely, knowing all the cracks and fissures that mean he’s falling apart as well as the ones that mean he’s holding it all together.

“Thanks, Mikeyway.” His voice breaks and Mikey slides his foot out, pressing his leg against Pete’s, smiling when Pete pulls his leg around, tangling them together. “Travie says hi, by the way.”

“Tell him I expect more than that when I see him next. I’m not feeling the love.” He reaches out and catches Pete’s hand, stopping the renewed movement of the salmon roll before Pete decides to let the ninja go for a ride. “What can I do?”

“This. This is good.” Pete manages a real smile and turns his hand to squeeze Mikey’s fingers. “She and I are working through it. Promised not to use Bronx as a pawn with each other. She loves him. Wants what’s best for him. So do I. It’s just hard. I…I really wanted to believe, you know? In forever.” He glances at Mikey’s tattoo and then down at his plate, reaching up to rub at his left shoulder. “She says she still loves me. She just can’t…live with me. With it. With…all the voices in my head, the insomnia, the nightmares, the constant…me-ness.”

“She knew.”

“Yeah. She did. And she does love me. I know she does. But she was also pregnant and we both had…a lot changed. Her career. Mine. She didn’t have the buffer of the band anymore.”

“Pete.”

“And neither did I. I’m not blaming her. I’m not blaming me.” He takes another drink and then laughs shakily. “Which is completely new, by the way. Not blaming myself. I didn’t realize how much easier it was to say I fucked up than to say it’s nobody’s fault.”

“I’m really proud of you. How you’ve done.”

“That’s because you were in Europe so you didn’t get all my frantic texts.”

“No. Because you’re doing better. Because you’re holding it together. Because you’ve got things worth living for, fighting for. Because you’re stronger than you’ve ever given yourself credit for being.”

“And you believe in fairy tales.”

“Only if they have zombies.” Mikey rubs his thumb lightly over the web of Pete’s hand. “I believe in you. Just like all of us do. Your new band. Your old band. Your friends. Your fans. You are who and what you are for a reason, Pete. All you have to do is look into those faces every night and see that. Those kids out there love you. They _care_ about you.”

“Some of them hate me.”

“Some of them think I’m the equivalent of a imbecile because I don’t talk a lot. Doesn’t make them right.” Mikey leans back in his chair and sips his sake, feeling the burn of it as it slithers down his throat. “You’ve talked to Gabe?”

“Yes.”

“And he told you the same thing?”

“Pretty much.”

“And you think Gabe and I are very wise.”

“I think you and Gabe are completely full of shit, but I also know you love me.” He ducks his head, hiding a grin and the shine of tears in his eyes. “So I’ll go out there. Because that’s what I do, right?”

“Because you need it. You say you’re needy, but you need to be needed more than anything. Which is why you’re a good man and a great dad.”

Pete nods and looks at his ninja then at Mikey. He stands up and exhales roughly. “I gotta get back for the show.”

Mikey stands up as well. There’s a moment of nothing and everything – memories and emotions, want and need, desperation and decision. Summers end, but they come around again. “Take care.”

“I will.”

“And call me. Whenever you need to.” He smiles, the one that’s reserved for Pete, the one that says everything that needs to be said. “Whenever you want. I’ll always answer.”

“Sweet little dudes.”

Mikey blinks against his own brightness of tears in his eyes and wraps Pete in a hug, holding him so close, saying everything he’s always been so bad at saying in words. “Forever.”

Pete lets go first, which Mikey isn’t used to, and grabs his bag. “Walk me to my gate?”

“Sure.” They walk in silence, and it’s second nature to fall in line with Pete’s shorter stride. When they reach his gate, Mikey hugs him again, just breathing in the scent of him. He can feel the fugue of the tour and the flight encroaching on his head, but for now it’s clear and sharp and all that matters is now. “You’re okay. And you’re going to be better.”

“I know.” Pete nods and smiles, stepping back with a wave. “See you round like a record, Mikeyway.”

“In high rotation, Wentz. Top 40 all the way.” He watches Pete stop himself from saying something, probably self-deprecating, before he turns around and heads for the boarding gate. People turn their heads, but it’s LAX, so famous people aren’t as uncommon. Mikey watches until he’s gone, waiting until he disappears into the jetway before heading to the exit, texting Alicia along the way.


End file.
